Seals that bind
by hanzhu
Summary: The children of a fallen kingdom must harness an unknown magical power to destroy the powers that conquered their fathers.
1. Chapter 1

"When the men of Guldem bind the dragons to their will Urhim will fall and never rise again." With those simple words uttered by a Deva sage, the doom of the kingdom of Guldem was sealed.

"We must hurry"

The night was dark, too dark. The few lights that battled against it in the city seemed pale, insignificant, not worthy of the darkness's effort to squelch them. The cracked dry earth that served as a road was hindered by old cobblestones poking out of the dead ground.

Two pairs of hurried footsteps tread lightly and quickly as they flew from the darkest hidden corners to shadowy alleyways as fast as they could. Their stifled haggard breathing told of their urgent need to move.

They wore dark hooded robes that swept over their shoulders and fell down to their fine black boots. Under their cloaks, well cut clothes of black and blood red with gold stitching would appear and disappear with the swishing of the dark cloth, grabbing for attention when stealth was needed. The taller, and broader, of the two carried a bundle in his arms while the more lithe of the two carried an intricately carved staff and a small pack on his back.

The streets were empty and dead. The cold, once white, walls that lined the road stood as gloomy monoliths to the once proud, but now fallen makers that had lived there. High arches crossed over the street, covered in brown dead vines. Across the faded walls echoed yelps, screams and moans, coming from the opposite direction that they two were heading.

The two travelers paid no heed to the impressive sites that they passed. They darted on the edge of the shadows with purpose, glancing around frantically to see if they were being followed.

"There it is!" said the shorter of the two in a rushed whisper, as she pointed around a corner and across a now deserted grand plaza, to a large domed building with wide doors smashed open. The Doors themselves must have been an impressive site when they were functional. The smashed wood was roughly pushed to the side to clear a wide pathway that three horse carts could pass through at the same time. That being as it was, the crude path through the rubble was less than half as wide as the archway that held the once proud oak doors. Three such wide entrances could be seen from the vantage point of the two cloaked figures as they made a mad dash to the closest gaping entrance way.

No one followed them into the night.

They dashed through the impressive archways with no more head than they had given to the rest of the blighted city. Into a dark passageway they ran, up a curved shallow ramp and along a dark corridor.

They rushed passed torn tapestries and knocked over statues. Their half hidden, grimy, images looking evil and twisted in the dark.

Bursting out of the corridor, they found themselves in a large central chamber.

Whispering to the staff, the shorter of the two called forth a faint light that glowed at the rod's end. It cast light around the chamber revealing piles of wood, stone, and bones. They were scattered about as if dropped from the sky.

The two of them trudged forth, clambering carefully to the center of the room. Making as little noise as they could. In the center of the room was a small stone arch. It was barely the height of a horse, and wide enough for two people to walk through side by side. The arch seemed to serve no purpose, but its central location drew questions of its importance.

When the two panting runners approached it, the light from the staff illuminated a circle of runes carved into the stone of the floor. They were scribbled in a wide circle around the archway, Time had almost obstructed them with a layer of dust.

Breathing heavily the two put down the pack and bundle and began to look at the circle of runes, searching for the one that could mean their freedom.

After a moment of searching, one of them fell to his knees and quickly began clearing away a layer of dust.

"Look," he said. "Here it is! quick bring the sand"

The shorter one nodded and returned to her pack and rummaged through it for a small glass vial that could be easily be concealed in the palm of a hand. The clear vial was filled unnaturally bright red sand.

As her hand retreated from the pack, vial in hand, her hood fell away to reveal her red face. The sharp angles offered a deadly beauty and her yellow eyes glowed faintly with power. Two short horned swept back from her temples over her long midnight black hair.

She hurried back over to her companion without replacing her hood.

She brushed aside her companion and pulled the cork out of the vial. Muttering to herself she sprinkled the red sand over the rune.

When he was done silence filled the cavernous chamber.

"Did it work? Why didn't it work?" asked the taller one, his teeth flashed impatiently as he spoke.

The woman let her eyes flutter about, clearly nervous. Was all their effort wasted?

As thoughts of doom almost took her mind, the rune let of a faint blue glow. It grew in power until it was bright enough to blind them.

the power ebbed and it slowly drained away in lines that reached toward the arch. Flowing like water downhill, the light formed into two pools by the bases of the arch.

With a loud crack a shimmering portal opened in the archway, reflecting images from a hundred different locations with a chaotic beauty.

They both let out sighs of relief that they did not know they were holding.

A slight hiss filled the air. It was barely noticeable at first but it grew as it echoed across the vast chamber. The darkness billowed and rolled as the hiss echoed back and forth across it, like a storm clouds of filth blown by the wind.

The two figures looked about in alarm as the darkness became more and more solid.

An oily voice creeped through the billowing black. It filled that back of their thoughts with bile and pulled pulled their minds in painful directions.

"You didn't think it would be that easy did you?" it hissed.

"Reita go!" yelled the taller one.

Reita turned herself around to run toward the back and bundle they had left on the other edge of the the carved circle of runes. Before she could take a second step in that direction a billowing cloud of darkness shot out the ground between her and her goal. The darkness evaporated around the new form of a mangled decaying body with green glowing eyes.

She let out a sharp cry of startlement and horror. She pointed at the undead corpse and called fire to burn it to ash.

Fire burst from its chest, evaporating its form.

All around her she heard moans as shadows became walking dead who approached her from all sides.

"Reita!" her companion yelled as he pulled out a wickedly serrated blade and began to hack away at the approaching horde. His hood had fallen back to reveal a complexion and face similar to hers, but masculine.

He was going to be overwhelmed. She needed to get to that small bundle.

She yelled, cursing in every language she knew as she ran to the small cloth wrapped packages.

She jumped, hand outstretched, reaching.

As her hand fell to the cloth another hand made of long sharp shadows reached out of the shadows and tore the bundle into the darkness beyond.

Her hand slammed into the stone ground as she stared at it is disbelief. She looked up slowly at the long limbed shadow that stood in front of her held the bundle close to its face. It traced a line down the center of the cloth which burned away at its touch.

Layers of thick finely woven cloth fell away to expose something small. Something red.

A child.

The shadow glanced from the baby to the prostrated woman on the ground. The look of absolute despair filled her eyes and tore at her face. The demon's shining violet eyes betrayed amusement as he held the child up higher like a hard won trophy.

He let out a low rumbling crackle.

"You think this is the worst fate your life could hold? You are mistaken. You shall see that death is a gift, handed out by saviors. Oh, but no savior is coming today. No nothing can stop my hand from achieving. Nothing." It laughed more maliciously now. "My touch shall scare him. My touch shall burn his soul and he will serve me for an eternity!"

The shadow traced one sharp finger over the infant's head. The baby began to scream as greenish gold flames covered its body, tracing symbols that could drive a mortal mad over its tiny body.

Reita screamed even louder. She called molten fire out of the air behind the dark demon and poured it onto the shadow creature's back.

"Imbecile!" the shadow screamed. It brought its free hand up for a backhanded slap the threw her three feet in the air and covered her vision with blood.

Her mind groggy, the shouts and noises filling the air were forgin to her. Their urgency growing.

The red shadows she saw now slowly cleared. She could see her companion, Iados run to the gate. His blade had been dropped somewhere, and he held the still screaming child.

He was so close!

At the last moment, when he seemed sure to leap through the portal's glimmering surface, a shadowy rope lassoed up from the ground. He let out a cry as he tumbled down, child still in arm.

The tall shadow walked forward into view, hands outstretched, ready to tear.

"Light find you!" Iados screamed as he tossed the child into the portal.

Desperate to cling to some hope Reita rose and called on her powers once again. This time she had a different target.

She called an orange gas to seep out of the ground around the portal, it grew thick and the smell of sulphur seeped into the air. The gas burst into flame around the archway, melting stone. The effort made her head spin.

Once again, she fell into the black.

The next thing she saw was the shadows glowing eyes as it approached her, Iados's body hung limply from his head, clutched tightly in the shadow's hand.

The shadow laughed again and she saw no more.


	2. Chapter 2

Temmond stretched lazily as he looked down from his perch on one of the higher branches of an elm sun was past its zenith, but not by much. His blue eyes could see far into the distance. Placing a hand to hold back the flood of dark brown tangled hair he gazed at the horizon. He could see the faint outlines of the Kolar mountains rising up over the far edges of the eternal forest to the west. That is where he had came from, or so he had been told.

Well not really.

His grandparents had been carried over those mountains ages ago by their parents. They had come fleeing the burning of the white city. They had been lucky, so very few had made it.

He looked back to the east. Springing out of the trees stood the towers of Varaesh, the city that is not. Its spires rose like needles piercing the sky. That is where he lived, sometimes at least. Well he had been born there, among the gleaming silver towers.

Its beauty was unmatched, or so they said. He had never seen anything else, other than the trees that went on for miles and miles until they reached the Kolar mountains in the west or to the Flegging marsh to the south. The grandeur of Varaesh was lost to him. Its thread thin spires and peaceful walkways held no interest for him.

There was so much more of the world to see, why would he ever want to stay in one place?

Visitors were rare in Varaesh, other than the Elves or gnomes, who were basically the same as the Eladrin as far as Temmond was concerned, only they were a little more fun. That is why he spent more time out of the city than in it. The Elves wandered about in the same general area as the city, but they spent their time playing, singing, exploring, and other things that were a lot more interesting than what they did in the city. They gnomes were also interested in having a good time, but they also tended to have business that needed doing.

"Tem, is that you?" called a small voice from the ground.

His thoughts of faraway lands were abruptly interrupted. With a start Temmond looked down to see a small man. Short frazzled brown hair grew on top of his head. His eyes were shady grey pools that always were looking into the distance. He was dressed in a blue robe with purple and red woven in the shoulders. He had seen many Eladrin wear the same or similar robes with grace and mystery. On this man, it just looked awkward.

Temmond laughed to himself, it's not like this man had noticed or cared. Temmond knew him. His was Garnand.

"Yeah its me." Temmond shouted down.

"Well," Garnand said cocking his head to the side "aren't you coming down?" he asked, confused as to why Temmond was not already before him. That was how Garnand was. He studied with the Eladrin day and night. He was one of their most promising pupils, and exceeded all their expectations. For a human that is. He thought ahead of what was happening and then would be surprised when reality called him back.

Temmond supposed that some would find this feature annoying, but he found it amusing. He liked how Garnand seemed to be dreaming all the time. It made him into more of a child in his eyes than anything.

"Yeah, I'll be down faster than you can fly." Tem said as he lept from branch to branch in an impressive feat of acrobatics.

He landed lightly on the forest floor, planted his fists on his hips, and turned with a grin, proud of his nimble feat.

He faced a less than impressed audience.

"I don't know how to fly." stated Garnand with an almost pensive wonder, as if considering the question of his physical ability to take wing for the first time.

Tem stared at Garnand, somewhat crestfallen. With a laugh he said, "I meant with magic Garn. Don't you know how to fly with magic?"

"No, I don't" He responded, as if pleading not guilty to a crime he never knew existed before being charged with it. After thinking for a moment he continued. "Oh, you don't know that much about magic do you? I told you last time, there are rules with magic and you need to know the rules before you can cast the spell. Don't you see? It's like if I wanted to drop an acorn. I first would have to hold the acorn now wouldn't I?" He asked with a smile now spreading over his face. He held confidence in his eyes that his lesson would be impossible not to understand.

Now it was Temmond's turn to be confused. Laughing he shrugged it off, if he had wanted to understand the arcane he would have stayed cooped up in a tower studying it just like Garn.

"Garn who says I don't know anything about magic?" Pressed Tem while he tried to think of a display that would be appropriate to show his skill.

"Yes, yes I am aware you have been studying with the elves. Their skill with the elements is unquestioned. They pull energy from the wilds, and ask the very elements to aid them." said Garn asurety growing with every word. He would do that sometimes, start lecturing and answering questions that no one had asked. Temmond needed to stop him if he was to avoid, an undoubtedly thorough, and undoubtedly boring, lecture on things he probably already knew.

"Hey Garn?"

He was startled for a moment, realizing that someone had interrupted him.

"Yes Temmond?"

"Didn't you have some reason for finding me?" Temmond asked with a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Ahh, well yes I did."

"Well, out with it man! It must have mattered to you, or you wouldn't have come looking for me."

"Oh yes, well I had heard something that I thought you might find interesting. I decided to come find you before I saw it myself. I don't think you have ever seen one before; and I think you would like it, what with all your talk of exploring and the like. It really is fascinating how it ended up wondering through our forest. It got close too, very close. Practically at the city gates when the elves found him. It was in very poor shape The thing had not eaten or slept in days.." Droned on Garn.

"Garn?"

"...which is oftly silly, most creatures know they require eating and sleeping. I am not quite sure how one would forget."

"Garnand!"

"Wait. What is it?"

"That's what I want to know Garn, what creature have they captured now?"

"Haven't you been listening? That is what I have been telling you! Honestly the first Teifling to.."

"A Tiefling! Where Garn! where is it?"

"In the healing hall of course. Where did you think it would be?" asked Garn, but Temmond had already started his way into town.


	3. Chapter 3

The poor creature lay motionless on an ornately decorated soft bed. Temmond did not really understand why the eladrin always had to make everything so fancy but whatever they made you could be assured it was made well.

A Tiefling! Temmond could still hardly believe it. He had heard of them in stories. They were once men, noble men, who made a deal with a demon, or something, and somehow got deamon's blood in them. They had ruled a huge empire and had battled the dragonborn for domination of the whole world.

Such tales were hard to forget.

The thin creature laid out before him was hardly the fire belching half demon murderer he had expected. Compared to the stories, the thing was quite pathetic and frail.

He was about the size of a man; had two arms and two legs, like a man. But there were a few differences that made him definitely not human or elf.

Pale red skin covered his body and was rough around his hands and chin. He had long straight black hair and two horns that grew from his temples and swept back from his forehead.

Tem could see a smooth red tail running between his legs and ending at his feet.

Black markings ran over his face and the parts of his arms and hands that were exposed to his view. Temmond wondered if they were natural or tattoos. They formed graceful arcs and sharp unsuspecting turns in a pattern that was unfamiliar to him.

He must have traveled far, there were no settlements for miles and miles, none close enough for Temmond to have visited. The stories this tiefling must know! The world he must have seen! Temmond had so many questions to ask. Whatever life he had lived, it must have been more interesting than living in a city where nothing exciting ever happened. Every now and then Varaesh would slip into the feywild for a few hours or a couple of days, sometimes even over a week. Temmond heard that this was unusual for a city to slip in and out of the world, but for him it was as natural as rain and hardly counted as excitement.

"He woke briefly when they brought him in." said Garnand, who had been talking with one of the healers while Temmond had been observing the new visitor.

"What did he say? Are there more like him? Are they coming here?"

"Of course there are more tieflings in the world, but he did not mention any more coming here. He seemed rather frightened by his whole situation. I can't imagine why."

"Maybe he heard tales of the city where boredom reigns as a cruel master?"

"Oh you have been studying. That is good. You will have to tell me of this city later." said Garnand, oblivious to the sarcasm. Temmond merely rolled his eyes.

Temmond looked back at the still figure. No known past. A creature of pure mystery. Adventure was sure to follow such an unexpected encounter. Temmond had to wonder what horror or tragedy would drive a man to near death and panic. He must be very brave, or very foolish, to travel into the wide and mysterious forest where few but the elves dared venture.

Garn was lost in thought again. He did that sometimes. Garnand was only a year or two older than Temmond, but the age difference could seem like a lot more due to Garnand's reclusive nature. Next to Lyfalia and Turin, Temmond considered Garnand his closest friend. They had an odd relationship, sometimes they would talk, sometimes they wouldn't. They did have a tendency to gravitate towards one another. It probably was because they were some of the few humans left in Varaesh. Most of the original band who had grew up among the eladrin had married elves or eladrin, so naturally there were a lot of half elves around. They were almost human, but different, in a way. Temmond loved and cared for his friends regardless of their race, but it was nice to have one that was more like him.

Tem and Garn both knew what it felt like to have everyone not expect much of them. No one was ever rude about it, but the feeling was there. When they failed, they were only human, so it was expected. Success was praised highly, but never demanded of them. In a way, Temmond imagined, it had pushed both of them harder, allowing them to achieve more than they would have otherwise.

Garn was one of the top students at the academy of arcana, although he seldom used magic outside of the academy. Temmond thought that books were a bore, so he opted to spend most of his time outside. He had been welcomed in with a small band of elves who wandered around, exploring the wilds near the city. Lyfalia had taught him how to use a bow, and he had practiced with it until everyone had accepted his mastery of it. Turin had taught him how to call upon the elements and spirits of the wild to aid him. He was not yet a master of that, but he applied himself well and was learning quickly.

They never praised each other openly, or discussed their drive to succeed, but they both knew that their achievements pleased one another.

He had always hoped that someday the two of them would leave together, go someplace far far away. They could have scores of adventures. Maybe some of the tales of their exploits would reach back to Varaesh, the city that is not, and the eladrin children would be proud to recite tales of their valor and cunning exploits.

He had never made any specific plans of course. He knew that they would not be allowed to go. It was never worded bluntly, but the humans were not supposed to leave. As it was never discussed Temmond was never quite sure as to why, but he knew he wasn't allowed. He was not a prisoner. No it was something different. He felt, protected or coddled, like an infant.

When Turin or Lyfalia went deep into the forest to explore some new place or hunt a murderous felbest, he was never invited. Or when a travelling caravan of gnomes would pass through the city and bring tales of gnolls invading from the marsh, he, nor any person with human heritage, was ever asked to assist in driving them was always kept within a day's travel from the city.

Lost deep in thought about the wide world he had never seen, he hardly noticed another figure approach the two of them while they continued to observe the mysterious tiefling.

"Temmond, Garnand." Sang a deep voice. It was Arandur, the head wizard and archmage of the arcane academy.

They both turned, Garnand bowed his head in deference, and Temmond answered simply, "Yes?"

"Your presence is requested in the grand sanctum. If you would please follow me." It was an odd request, Temmond hardly ever went to the arcane academy when he did he tended to be visiting Garnand on the grounds, not in the wide lecture halls or deep libraries.

Garnand was already following; Temmond would be rude to ask questions now.

The day was filling with piles of unanswered questions.


	4. Chapter 4

The grand sanctum was the largest meeting hall in the arcane academy. Its graceful lofted walls were used for the wizards council, and other large meetings. Temmond had never been in it. Like most things about the academy, they did not hold his interest.

The room was vaguely ovular, with rows of cascaded benches curving around the edges, leading to one grand chair at the far end of the room. Twelve other chairs were posted at intervals around the cleared center. They were the seats for the members of the council of magic. They were already filled with mystic eyed eladrin, wise faced elves, and one tiny bright gnome woman.

The rows of inclined seats were already beginning to fill. It was an odd assortment that Temmond had not been expecting.

The twelve high mages and archmages presence Tem assumed was normal, but the benches were filling with a curious bunch of people who Temmond would never had expected to be contained all in one room.

It was the humans.

The humans and half elves, all the descendants of Guldem that were known in the city of Varaesh were gathered in the grand sanctum. They all seemed as surprised as he was to be called to an important meeting. Not that they were all unimportant. Many of them had worked hard and become well known craftsmen, merchants, and soldiers. They had adapted well to living in the eladrin city and were well integrated into the society.

He followed Garn to take a seat on a front row on the left side, behind a tall violet eyed eladrin council member, next to Rimita the baker, who wore a slightly perturbed face from being interrupted at her work. He recognized most of them, but Varaesh was a large city and it was extremely difficult to know all of its inhabitants. Tem was surprised to see that they had even roused the druid Prulynn Duskwalker from her glen to attend the meeting. Her calm face was offset by a small upturn of her lips. She was undoubtedly irritated with being summoned to leave her beloved wilds, if even only for an afternoon.

Humans were not the only ones in attendance. Tem could see Sydri, captain of the king's guard, flanked by two soldiers in ornamented high elf armor, discussing something with Falion Aracanscape, a half elf swordmage who was about the same age as him. Falion's typical sad face seemed almost cheerful at a chance to speak with Sydri. Sydri was clearly directing him gently to sit with the others while she and her two companions were to take a more prominent place near the archmage. Her two guards carried thinly veiled packages, that Temmond guessed were to be given to the archmage.

Some of the guests Temmond would have been happier to not see. He rolled his eyes over to Garn when he saw Norkas Moonshadow enter the hall. Norkas was a half elf, three fourths eladrin if you wanted to get technical, which Norkas always did. Garn saw him too and quickly busied himself with adjusting his robe, an act he only did to busy his eyes.

They were lucky that people of more prominence were present so that the attention of the haughty know it all was diverted to another part of the hall.

When they had all been seated, the archmage Arandur tapped his staff against the stone dais of his raised chair to silence the crowd. After a moment they had settled down and the archmage signaled two eladrin at the large entry way door to seal the meeting.

A moment of silence past.

"Children of Guldem, long you have dwelt here in the city that is not in peace. You have added to the knowledge and wonder of Varaesh for three of your generations. You came from a great land that has fallen into darkness."

Temmond looked around in confusion. Guldem was not spoken of often, it was usually referred to indirectly as the land over the Kolar mountains or the land of the white city. He searched for a clue as to what was about to be discussed in the other faces in the room. He had no luck as most faces featured the same confusion he held.

"The evil that befell the nation of Guldem was not of its own making. They were strong and powerful, as well as just and benevolent. They lived their days in peace. Doom came upon them in the form of a prophecy. The words spoken by a Dava sage from a high mountain keep echoed throughout the world. Her words were thus spoken. "When the men of Guldem bind the dragons to their will Urhim will fall and never rise again."'

He paused shortly to emphasize the gravity of his words. Urhim? That was another name that was never spoken. He was a demon lord of immense power whose dark influence brought terror and death. He was known for his mastery of the magic arts and the undead. He was also called the bringer of shadows.

"The words spoken of Guldem were of power, but ultimately they brought doom. Urhim heard of this prophecy. He was maddened at the thought of mortals casting him down. Through devilish means he called out to the dragons and inflamed their minds. He told them of a prophecy wear they would be slaves to a mortal nation of men. He strengthened their pride. Enticed them to act. When their rage was sufficient he called them forth to lead his armies and cults to battle with the human nation of Guldem."

Tem was shocked. He looked at Garnand who was equally enthralled with the tale unravelling before them. He had never heard this before. He knew that Guldem had fallen, but as to how, that had always been a riddle.

"The men of Guldem fought bravely, but in less than a week the white city fell. Within a month Guldem had been razed to the ground. few survived or escaped the wrath of Urhim or his dragon generals. At this time The paladin, Lord Waltiln Trannyth, lead a band of three hundred survivors into the endless forest. They left in secret and in haste. They were careful to cover their tracks and were rewarded as none of the faulspawn army followed them. Others were not so lucky. Urhim knew the prophecy to be true, so he expanded all of his efforts to finding any with the held blood of Guldem and spilt it without mercy."

Arandur's timeless face betrayed utter sorrow as he recited the sad history. It was rare to see any expression cross his face, so such a display could be the seen as openly weeping.

"Not being one of constraint, Urhim's ire spread far and wide. It began to include all the children of men. Any caught harboring refugees were slaughtered as well. It was a dark time."

"The foul spawn army's crusade lasted thirty long years. At last content that Guldem could never rise to bind any dragon, Urhim made the waste of the white city to be his new throne. There he has blighted the land to this day."

Tem understood now. He understood why they were never to leave. Why they were never spoken of.

If word got out of Guldem survivors, it could risk a demon invasion, maybe with dragon support. The idea brought a deep fear into his heart. He could see the sentiment echoed throughout the room, in Falion's mournful eyes or in Sydri's determined look.

"Guldem, near the end of its long history, began to delve into areas of magic that are unknown, even to us."

He signaled to Sydri who stood at the right side of his raised chair. She nodded and gestured to her two guards to proceed. They nodded in unison. The first unveiled the object he was holding to reveal a large flat shield with a blue front. Across the blue front was a white symbol that had no meaning to Temmond, and with a quick glance to Garn, no meaning to the wizard either.

It was four spans tall, and at least three across. The heavy metal seemed crude to Temmond, who was more familiar with the elegant work of the eladrin. The eladrin guard lifted it up high so that all could see the inscription on the front.

"This," said Arandur, "is the shield of Lord Trannyth. The marking on the front is unknown to us. However, we believe it is the source of some of its more interesting properties."

Arandur gave a brief wave of his hand and the eladrin who was holding the shield tried to place his arm though the straps. His arm somehow missed them entirely and he nearly dropped the shield. He tried again. This time the blue metal swung up and around, away from his outstretched arm.

It was rather comical to see one so familiar with weapons of war be unable to accomplish a task a wet nurse could do with one arm.

"Lord Trannyth informed us that the shield was made for him by the court mages of the white city. They inscribed this symbol and bond it in some way to himself and his line. It cannot be used by any other."

He nodded to the other guard who proceeded to remove the thin veil for them object in his hands.

He revealed an old tattered book. It had a blue cover, that had faded with time, inscribed with golden markings that had half worn off its surface. He opened it, gently as to not damage the pages. Inside were carefully drawn runes of unknown meaning. Glancing back to the shield, Temmond could see that several of the markings were very similar.

"As many have heard" It was Sydri speaking now, "A tiefling has stumbling into our lands. He carried very little and had traveled very far. We found this book clutched in his hands."

"Thank you Sydri" continued Arandur, "These are the only two examples of these runes we have ever encountered. Until the appearance of the book, we had no reason to suspect that this was a new field of magic, perhaps one that may have been destined to fulfill the prophecy that doomed your ancestors. We have gathered you here today to ask if any of you know or have seen anything like this before."

A quiet rumble was stirring in the crowd. Quick whispers and glances around the hall were gaining speed and energy. Who knew what this information could mean? Most of them had taken their lives and place in the city without question. This opened all of it up to question now.

Tem gave a quick glance over to Garn. Garn was staring intently at the book. Temmond should have guessed that its secrets would tug at Garnand's interest with an all consuming ferocity. He was like that with books.

Temmond was mildly annoyed at his friends distraction, but that feeling was soon silenced with the crowd as they began to stare at young Falion, who had stood up from his place across the across the hall from Temmond. He was holding one of his hands up a little over his waist closed in a fist. In his fist he held a gold chain.

The attention of the crowd made him slightly unsure of himself, but when Arandur turned his direction and beckoned him over, he gained confidence. He shuffled out into the center of the room, and walked to the Archmage's seat.

He gave a brief nod in deference to Sydri before he held out his hand and presented a small amulet to Arandur. The archmage carefully took the amulet from him and inspected it carefully.

Temmond smiled briefly when he caught a glimpse of Norkas, whose face was positively green with envy over the attention Falion was getting.

With the whole hall's rapt attention fixed on Falion, few noticed a brown moth flutter over to Sydri's ear.

Within a moment, Sydri's face became harder than steel.

"Open the doors." She commanded, startling the entire hall.

"Arandur, more pressing matters require our attention." She said as she, accompanied by her flanking guards, walked briskly for the door.

Arandur stood. "This will make a most interesting study, but this meeting is adjourned for today. You are dismissed." He said with a wave of his hand. Nodding briefly to each of the twelve mages on the council, he followed the captain of the guard out of the hall.

This time Gardand was looking directly over at Temmond. Concern written all over his face.

He seemed as confused as Tem was at the quick end of the meeting.


	5. Chapter 5

Garnand sat at a stone table on the academy grounds, his face contorted in deep concentration. Every now and then he would turn a page of the book that lay open in front of him.

Tem watched him, leaning on a tree a few spans away. Temmond knew he wasn't reading. He was thinking of the book of unknown runes, still in the grand hall.

When they all had been leaving, Garn had asked several council members if he could examine the book. He had politely been denied the honor.

The city had an uneasiness to it that was rarely felt. It did not take long for Temmond to hear the news that a horde had amassed out of the Flegging marsh. A black dragon had united several gnoll and lizard men tribes under his rule, and was leading them on a rampage north through the eternal forest. Gnome villages and elf tribes had been slaughtered.

It was rumored that the king had already commanded Sydri to gather an army and head south to deal with the menace. Of course Tem had not been invited.

Just when things looked like they were finally going to get interesting, heavier matters had intervened. Tem could easily sympathize with his downcast friend.

Temmond pushed himself off of the tree and walked over to his friend.

"Garn they have to let you see it eventually." he said, laying a hand on the wizards shoulder.

"No, don't you see? This could have been my chance. I know I could have solved it. I mean it only makes sense that I should be able to look at it. Think of it. It came from human hands, as far as we know. Probably, it would be easier for a human to solve it." Garn grumbled on.

"You needn't worry about that book Garnand." said a confident voice from behind them. Garnand's fingers twitched, crumpling the page he had been holding, at the sound of that voice. Tem let out a sigh and turned, wishing he was mistaken, but knowing he was not, to face the half elf cleric he knew would be standing there.

Norkas stood not twelve spans away in the scholarly brown robe of his profession. While most priests of Ioun wore the simplest clothing an eladrin could stand to wear, Norkas went for the more ornate. The twisted gold thread that ran through his cloak, along with the silver hem and buttons, drew as much attention as he could without openly being called pompous.

Tem was not sure if the cocky grin on Norkas's face would lead him to punch him or vomit first. Knowing that both were frowned on by contemporary society, he smiled as best he could. He included all the venom he could muster in his forced grin.

"Hello Norkas." Tem managed to say.

"Did you hear me, Garnand?" Norkas continued without acknowledging Tem. He did that a lot. Norkas was a priest to Ioun, the god of knowledge and study. He considered these of utmost importance, and those who avoided these virtues, like Tem, were beneath his notice.

Garn also turned, the annoyance clearly written on his face. Norkas was one of the few people who could break his concentration.

"Yes I heard you. What do you want Norkas?" Garn said in short, choppy syllables, his eyes constantly darting around for a way to escape.

"I am simply here to inform you of the good news. I told the headmaster of the temple of Ioun of Guldem's book of runes, and he agreed with me." He said with his iconic confidence and bravado. He dipped his head, as if expecting applause, or congratulations.

He was greeted with neither.

Norkas kept a smile on his face and waited for eager inquiries on his latest success. Temmond found the half elf repulsive, but he had to admit, Norkas had a wide range of accomplishments. At a relatively young age he had been accepted into the temple of Ioun, a scholarly society that only welcomed the most accomplished scholars.

When he had joined the order it had been of little political consequence. Norkas had changed that quickly.

He attended hall meetings at the arcane academy, and at the moonlight hall. He listened to the arguments and discussions, and when applicable situations arose, he would offer the knowledge of the temple of Ioun.

He started small, but it took little time for his influence to grow.

His place in the upper circles of society had been made sure when a certain incident involving a werebeast from the fey-dark attacking an evening party of the elven high lord Arannis, a close relative of the summer king.

He had faced the challenge calmly, and performed with distinction.

If Norkas had one redeeming attribute, it was keeping his calm.

After a long silence, Norkas gave up on waiting for Garnand and Temmond to question him.

"Garnand," he said inspecting some fanciful imperfection on the back of his flawlessly manicured hand, "you will be happy to hear that Guldem's book of runes will be transferred to the temple of Ioun this afternoon."

"No it will not." Garnand said, his eyes darting back and forth, as if glancing over an unseen list of facts. Whatever was written on this unseen parchment caused a sour look on his face. His head twitched slightly to one side.

"I have just left a meeting between the archmage and high priest of Ioun and they have decided the matter. Our order is the best equipped to handle this sort of situation. With so much happening as of late, the archmage was more than happy to part with one more problem."

"The book clearly has arcane properties, for a start, and if it was allowed to stay at the academy more would be allowed to see it and puzzle out its meaning. You can't just go and horde a national treasure for yourself."

"Careful Garnand," Norkas clicked " I have enjoyed our debates." Tem let out a snort at that. He had been there for these "debates" which consisted of Garn trying to leave while Norkas kept talking. "I have known and respected you for a long time, Garnand, but only the ignorant question the followers of Ioun We speak for wisdom itself. You call the book a national treasure? Of what nation? Guldem is fallen. Its time has passed, it would be better for you to look to the future.."

Norkas smiled as he saw Garn blink rapidly. Garn did not handle illogical people very well, mostly because he could not understand them. Norkas made so little sense to him that he lacked the words to express it. Garnand lacking of words, now there was a rare situation indeed!

Norkas's smile stumbled, for only a moment, like leaves fluttering in the wind. It almost would pass unnoticed over the calm serenity that usually dominated his face, but Temmond always saw things when they moved. It was a skill that he had learned quickly while walking the forest with Lyfalia.

"Garnand," Norkas began, his tone growing stern. "Don't you see this was a great sacrifice for me? You know as well as I do the difficulty of gaining honor in the high elf courts. To associate myself with, eh, human work is to take a step back." He said human with such a slight amount of disgust that Temmond would bet he had practiced saying it that way for hours. "I did this as a favor to you."

Garnand's face wrinkled in confusion. "How could this help? Removing pieces had never helped anyone solve a puzzle. Norkas, you know I could.. Argh." Garn stuttered a bit and threw his hands into the air. Garnanad had told Temmond that people like Norkas were best left ignored and unanswered. Apparently Garnand had as much trouble following his own sage advice as Tem did. " The knowledge and treasures held within could have broken our understanding of current arcane theories. There is no telling what secrets are held within that book. Runic manuscripts are, of tradition, associated with divine power, but that book was of the arcane traditions. What could that mean?"

"It should not matter to you Garnand." Norkas stated, cutting Garn short. " I have been in the high court, I have heard reports given of the arcane academy. Your skill in learning the high elf arcane arts has been mentioned on more than one occasion! That is not to be taken lightly."

Garnand began speaking over him. "I care little for high courts, they are useful, but beyond my scope of interest. More can be accomplished through study an act than by discussion. You should understand what you are implying."

Norkas raised his voice to match Garn's. "Well no matter wizard, the matter is decided. We will take the book later this day. I'll be sure to let you know of its mysteries, when I have time of course. I can't be bothered explaining everything who lack the commitment or intelligence for personal study. Good day. I have more pressing matters than to extend help to those too blind to receive it."

With a flourish of his robe, he turned to exit the grounds.

"Remember." He called out over his shoulder. "I did this as a favor to you." His voice was as calm and near-kind as ever; but his eyes. His eyes were two blades dripping acid.

Garn was still stuttering. He did not know which statement he needed to correct first.

"A favor? Better to ask for a betrayal than a favor from that witless slug. Don't worry about him Garn, it will all be ok"

"How is that ok? He knows next to nothing about practical applications."

"I know Garn, I know. You know that fussing over it will not do any good."

Garn gave a sharp grunt in the affirmative, and then started to mumble to himself.

Tem wanted to punch Norkas right in the face, he deserved no less. All he wanted was to use the book as another way to prove how important he was compared to all the riff raff that surrounded him.

Temmond started to pace in frustration. With all the guard busy preparing to march off to war, no one had time to pay attention to one little item leaving the arcane academy. There was practically no time to pay attention to anything. Birds had been flowing into and out of the cities in massive waves, carried messages to and from outlying villages and far off traveling troops. Three events happening on one day, three events that could change his life, but instead they would be forced to drift into the side notes of life. Three possible adventures that would happen to other people in other places, far from him.

He kicked up a bit of dust as he paced through the soft grass.

They would not even ask him to help prepare for any of it. If he tried to help prepare the army for their long march, he would be polity and indirectly asked to take his efforts elsewhere. The same could be said with the tiefling, he knew little beyond the basics of healing and nothing of the curing of maladies that took the mind. Garn could learn a lot from that faded blue book, anyone who knew anything about Garnand knew he could, but that opportunity had been taken from them as well. Not that the book seemed very interesting at all, it was just something new. Nothing changed in Varaeesh, the city that is not. Slipping into the feywild for a few days did not count as something remarkable, for even there the city was surrounded by forest as far as one could see.

He plopped himself down and leaned against a firm tree trunk.

Garnand was still muttering to himself.

Temmond felt like leaving to the safety and calm of the forest. At least there there would be less reminders of adventures that were passing him up again. Lyfalia and Turin could cheer him up, maybe, but no. They would be busy too. They knew the woods better than anyone, they would be consulting on paths, maps, and trails and describing in great detail how to move an army as fast as a flying swallow to the south forest.

"Just great." he half muttered half thought to himself. Even more reminders that everyone would be busy having an adventure without him. "Everyone busy with something except me."

"Busy you say?" A small voice said from the other side of the tree.

Temmond felt his own eyes bulge in surprise. Had he left his guard down so much that a city dweller could sneak up on him? With his luck, it was Turin poking fun at him, mimicking a voice that he would rather not be hearing. With any luck he would turn and it would be anyone but, but there was no such luck.

He turned and saw no other than Belgeon Goldweaver.

Belgeon always had a mischievous smile on his face, not the kind Temmond liked. Temmond loved mischief, as far as it was fun and no one would get hurt. He would play a joke, spook a friend, weave a tall tale as soon as he would eat breakfast, but this little gnome behind him was a whole different breed of trouble.

The stout gnome, barely three paces high, had never done anything technically forbidden, as far as could be proven. Everyone knew he was trouble. You didn't have too look past his deep violet eyes to tell he was up to no good.

It was rumored that he practiced the dark arts, that he was secretly some kind of warlock. He had dark connections, with what? None could say, but it unnerved people. He resided at the arcane academy. His quarters were crisp and clean whenever anyone would enter them. Never any evidence of malpractice of the arcane arts.

People still said strange things about him.

He would leave his quarters in the morning, after never having returned at night, or leave at night without ever having arrived back from wherever he had disappeared to.

The rumors wouldn't have bothered Temmond much. Similar stories would most likely perk his interest, but not with Belgeon.

There was something wrong with this character. Temmond could feel it. Something unnatural. After seeing the little gome one would want to wash his own eyes clean.

Temmond regained some composure and answered the warlock back.

"Hello Belgeon, I don't remember inviting you into our conversation."

"Oh a conversation is it? How rude of me. I was mistaken. You see, I usually only count it as a conversation if the two beings are using their words at each other." He flashed his smile over to Garnand who was still muttering to himself, sometimes even raising his arms as if lecturing in an instruction room.

Tem sighed in frustration. It was apparent that Belgeon was going to put his minds worth out into the open, there was no stopping him with "conversations."

"Ok fine, maybe we aren't talking to each other. What do you want?"

"Me? Want something? No I think it is you who want something."

"Oh really? I wouldn't have known." Temmond said dryly.

"Well it seems that if you want something you should go get it."

"Get it? Just go and get it? That is hardly how things are done in Varaesh."

"Oh, afraid of a little trouble? I thought you were the wild one who spent days out in the felwoods, facing dark fearsome dangers the likes of us city folk would not understand."

Temmond wrinkled his brow in confusion at the gnome's obvious attempt at flattery. Felwoods? Hardly. He had never even gotten close to anything dangerous out there. Turin and Lyfalia would never allow it.

"You know what we want and as you may have heard Garnand is not going to get it. It's one its way to being locked up far out of reach, like anything else interesting around here. I wouldn't get within twenty paces before being politely asked what I was doing."

Belgeon glanced side to side, shaking his tangled dark hair. Then he leaned in close, like he was about to pronounce a secret.

"Oh? I thought you said they were all going to be busy." He lifted his eyebrows on the last word. "Just something to think about." He flashed another devilish grin and then scampered off.

Temmond let a shiver run down his spine.

The two most unsavory characters in all of Varaesh; both of them speaking to him, well at least while he was present, in the same day. He wrinkled his nose as if smelling something foul.

It made him want to leave this city all the more.

But he didn't want to do it alone.

He looked back over at Garnand. It was not as if he could get that one to come with him, not unless he could somehow pack the whole arcane library in his boot. He laughed a little to himself, he would probably need to shove a whole set of those crazy glass contraptions that Garnand was always melting stuff in as well.

Or maybe not.

Tem looked back the way Belgeon had left.

The little imp was right about one thing.

Everyone was going to be busy.


	6. Chapter 6

Temmond ran tree to tree.

He was almost sure no one was following him, almost.

He had given instructions to Garnand on where to meet him. He shouldn't have had a problem finding it, if he felt like going there. Garn didn't forget things, ever. He did have a habit of figuring more important things to do, and then forgetting to tell you he had changed his plans.

Tem hoped he had not changed his plans this time.

It would be an awkward situation to return to. Stealing was all but unheard of in Varaesh. To the point where Temmond didn't even know the punishment for stealing. Would it be worse that he stole from the arcane academy? He would assume so.

Punishment?

They knew he meant well, the people who knew him. Turin and Lyfalia would vouch for him. They would, that is, if they bothered to come into the city at all. They might just leave him to his own troubles and call it a fine joke, laughing all the while.

When he had gone for the book there had been no guards. It was just laying on a pedestal where some wizzard had left it for the night. He had slipped it into his pack and hurriedly walked out the front door.

There had been no alarm, no rushing guards. He had only heard the sounds of the night. Then why did he feel so nervous?

Breathing heavily, he ran into the clearing where he had arranged to meet with Garnand. He was sitting calmly on a log, still wearing his ill-fitting robe.

"Oh, you are here." Garnand said with his unblinking stare. "Do you have the book?"

"What?" Tem said, reaching for it in his pack. He pulled out the book and placed it in Garn's waiting hands. He had not told Garnand of his plans at all.

He had only told him to meet him at the clearing by the fallen oak two hours after the sun had set.

"How did you know I was going to bring the book?" Tem asked

He began to flip through the pages absently, as if reviewing an old book for clarification on some odd scrap of information.

Tem began to tap his finger against his side impatiently.

"Aren't you going to ask how I got it?" Tem offered.

"Well I had assumed you picked it up from where it was located and then transported it here. Why? Did you have another means of transporting it here?" Garn asked, slightly curious.

"Well, no But Garn, do you want to know how I got here, and escaped the city undetected?"

Garn looked up from the book, cocked his head to its side and tapped his finger against his cheek twice. After pondering the question he said "No" and turned back to his book.

Crestfallen, Tem sat down on the ground and began pushing some dirt around with his finger sheepishly. A few minutes past. Tem looked up and could see the stars through the hole in the canopy made by the clearing. The stars always seemed to be smiling to Tem. They were so free. Not chained down to any one place in the sky, they floated about lazily without anyone directing their path.

He was one of them now. A wonderer. No one was going to tell him where to go from now on. It was him and Garn against the world. They would see the world like the stars did. All of it.

Temmond looked back over at Garn, who was still diligently studying his book by the light of the stars.

"Garn? Don't you think we should go? I mean you'll have time for that later."

"Why?"

"The guards may be following us, we need to go."

"Didn't you say you weren't followed?" Garn asked, without looking up from the book.

"Garn, argh, that's not the point. I just think we need to.."

Tem heard something in the distance. Something not native to the forest night. It was heading toward them.

Tem pushed himself off the ground and quickly pulled out his bow. He didn't notch an arrow quite yet.

He could see the shadow coming from the trees, from the direction of the city. It stumbled and walked in an odd way, tripping over branches and almost running into trees. No it was definitely not a creature of the eternal forest.

The dark shadow came at the quickly in sudden jagged movements. Garn became aware of the noise, but when he saw Temmond at attention, he went back to his studies.

Blundering into the clearing came the wounded tiefling. He looked a little less feeble on his feet. He was obviously not fully recovered from whatever injuries had befell him when he had tumbled his way through the eternal forest to Varaesh.

Catching sight of the two soon to be adventures, he paused. He looked between the two of them, as if unsure what their presence meant.

His eyes fell to the book on Garnand's lap, and grew considerably. His head started to shake as if looking at death itself.

"Don't," he started, lifting up his hand to point at the book, "Don't, I, stay away from that thing!"

His voice trembled as he uttered the words. He looked as if he were about to cry. His whole body continued to shake.

"Sir?" Temmond said, carefully. "What do you mean? You are not well, you should sit and rest." Tem let his bow drop, hoping to not aggravate the situation. He calmly put one foot gently down after the other, working his way over to the shaking tiefling.

"It's going to be ok, you should rest."

The tiefling looked at Temmond approaching, his eyes widening in terror with every step.

"No. You need to go. Get away from me. It isn't safe." he muttered. He looked down at his hands, paying special attention to the black markings that wound around his arms. He brought his hands closer to his face and screamed.

Clutching his arms close to his body he ran off into the night.

Temmond's eyes were clearly filled with worry as he turned to Garnand. Garn met his eyes for a second before turning back to the book.

"Garn, what just happened?" Temmond asked.

"The injured tiefling warned us about the book of runes, that it may have some element of danger. He then screamed and ran off. You saw him didn't you?"

"Garn! you know what I mean. What did he mean? We should go after him, he was in no state to be running off in the eternal forest. It can be dangerous out there."

"Maybe we should, but maybe we shouldn't." Garn replied calmly without raising his nose from the book.

"No Garn. We have to. We can't just let him die out there!" said Tem, a hint of panic spreading in his voice.

"We never have to do anything really, and such decisions should not be made when agitated."

"I am not agitated!" yelled Temmond.

"You are also not the first to come up with the idea of chasing after him for his own safety." Garn said, barely glancing his eyes up for a moment when he spoke.

"What do you mean?" Temmond started. But as he mouthed the words he realized he had not been listening to the forest. He could hear it clearly now, the rapid steps of hooves approaching. They were coming from the city.

Tem was too shaken at the appearance of the tiefling to remember that only moments before he had been running away. He was actually glad that someone else was coming to help with the situation.

He could see the black outlines of horses long before he could make out who was riding them. They numbered about twenty

They reigned in their horses in front of seated Garnand and standing Temmond. They were large beasts, the horses. Larger than the ones normally used by the eladrin. Atop of them was a detachment of the city guard with none other than the captain, Sydri, leading them.

They were an impressive sight to behold. The light armor that they normally wore had been replaced. Temmond had not seen any guards wearing this armor before. It was formed with large smooth plated over the chest, thighs, forearms, and shins, with finely worked layers of smaller plates connecting them together. He would not describe it as heavy, or thick. For lack of better words, he would have to call it more complete than the armor they wore around the city.

They also had more weapons than they normally carried. Each of them had a bow, quiver, long spear and shield. Tem could also see swords sheathed at their wastes. All of the weapons and armor had the otherworldly grace that was held in items of fine eladrin manufacture. They looked ready to charge into any danger possible. The faint light given off by the moon seemed to emphasize their greatness instead of diminishing it.

"You there. Did you see the tiefling pass this way?" inquired Sydri with a regal tone.

Tem was going to answer her, but Garn started speaking first.

"Oh yes, the tiefling, he was here not a moment ago. He left in quite the state. I highly doubt he came all this way to give us the warning, he must have another purpose in mind. He must indeed, he was acting very rashly." Garn droned on.

Sydri paused for a moment before interrupting him. Her eyes compressed with questions before she resumed her natural air of authority.

"What warning did he offer to you? What words did he speak."

"He was not speaking very clearly. I would had liked to ask him for more details, but he rushed on with out giving us adequate time to interview him. I do not really see what the harm can be at all, it is such a simple object. I do not think it can really cause any harm."

"Speak clearly wizard, I have many matters with which I must attend to before the sun rises."

"Well it is just as I was saying." began Garnand.

Tem knew speaking clearly was not one of the strong suits of his friend.

"He was saying something about.." he began.

"the runic book from Guldem, if I am not mistaken." completed Arandur. He strode purposefully past the riders into the clearing. The hem of his ornate robes reflected starlight adding to his subtle brilliance. He lead two others into the clearing, one Temmond knew only by name, Ordiron, an elven member of the wizards council. The other, He knew better than he ever cared for.

It was Norkas.

The half elf's face was filled with triumph as he followed the archmage into the clearing. He was dressed in gilded armor that glimmered in the moonlight.

"Archmage, what has this matter to deal with you?" asked Sydri.

"Not as much as I would hope." answered the archmage. "I was notified of two separate events almost simultaneously. The first was that the runic book of Guldem was missing from where Oridron had placed it. The second was that the tiefling had fled the healing ward as soon as he had regained consciousness."

"If you believe these matters to be of concern to the arcane academy, I will be glad to hand the matter over to you. I was only charged with seeing to the safety of the tiefling. There are still much preparations to be made, for the morrow we march to the Flegging; and I will not have our army ill prepared to meet its foe."

"This may concern the academy, but there is more at play on this night than chance. Ordiron has informed me as to powers of fate compelling the actions of the night." said the archmage, nodding briefly to his elven counterpart who returned the motion. "This mystery, of the appearance of a lone wondering tiefling possessing a lost work of great import, is not for us to solve. We have matters that press us and duties in which we cannot fail. I am also to inform you, Sydri, that I will personally be leading a band of mages, along with two other council members, south to the Flegging. We will be under your command in this endeavor. As such, the council has decided, with the aid of Ordiron, that the children of Guldem would be most suited to solve this riddle. I therefore appoint the two who have last seen the quandary, Garnand of the arcane academy and Temmond trained of the wild, to this quest."

Sydri looked intently at Auradur. Temmond stared at the both of them in shock. He had only just discovered, that day, why for a lifetime he had not been allowed far from the city. He certainly had never been considered for any quests, much less appointed to one.

Temmond had assumed that taking the book of runes from the academy would have lead to punishment, not to his dreams. It was almost unbelievable.

Sydri finally nodded, after considering the situation. "I agree with your assessment of the situation archmage, and thank you for your help. I also have one that I would like to appoint to this quest. He has studied the path of the sword and is a capable warrior. He has requested several times to join the king's guard under my command but has been denied by the covenant that was taken to protect the last children of Guldem. Falion, present yourself."

Temmond had not noticed the sad faced half elf in the riders. Falion came forward, looking reluctant and unsure of himself. He had ridden in with the mounted guards lead by Sydri, but his mount had been shorter than the rest so Temmond and Garnand could not see him until he walked his mount forward.

Instead of the strong graceful war horses that the eladrin were riding, he rode a young gentle elk. His rough leather jerkin looked almost sad next to all the mounted eladrin in their glistening armor. The sword at his side was simple as well, but well used.

Arandur looked at the young half elf. His face seemed almost sympathetic.

"You are right Sydri, this one must go as well. He is an er to the Trannyth line. As such he should be armed as one."

He clasped his hands together and then spread them slowly. An ethereal glow formed between his separating hands, slowly becoming more material. The glow grew and formed into the blue shield of Lord Trannyth.

"This is the shield of your fathers, see that it is used to protect those in need, as it was used in the past."

Falion dismounted his elk and walked over to Arandur to receive the shield. His face retained it's sad look, but his eyes had gained confidence.

Just as his hands were about to grasp the cold metal, Norkas stepped up; shoving his body in between the archmage and Falion.

"Master I must accompany this quest. I alone have the skills and knowledge to lead them through the dangers that lie ahead. I will take them to the tiefling. I will find where he stole the book of Guldem from, and I will have both back in Varaesh before you return from the Flegging marsh."

Arandur's face was blank at the interruption. Falion had lost what little confidence he had had, and dropped his hands from the shield. Sydri's appreciation was etched clearly on her face. Temmond swore it was the closest thing to a scowl he had ever seen on an eladrin.

"I am also an heir to the Trannyth blood line. I can use his legacy to great use on this quest. Let me wield the shield of my fathers archmage"

Aradur looked at the confident face of Norkas, then back to Falion's downcast gaze.

"Very well, priset of Ioun." He handed the shield over to the anticipating cleric. "However, I have another suggestion on who should lead this party. With your permission Captian," He nodded in Sydri's direction, "I would have Temmond the seeker lead this quest. His skills with the wilds shall surely be a great asset on the journey."

"I concur with your judgement archmage. Let us be done with this business, our forces wait our leadership."

Arandur bowed to Tem, Garn, and each of the five individually.

"This road may be longer that you can now immagine. Always remember you are the hope of a fallen people. Never let that hope die."


	7. Chapter 7

Temmond could still hardly believe it.

He had been appointed to lead a quest. He had never cared to be the leader of anything, but the alternative seemed a fate only a gnoll could possibly deserve.

He looked back along the line of his fellows. Garnand followed immediately after him, holding his staff in one hand and the book of Guldem in the other. Norkas came next. His gilded armor shone in the early morning light and he held the shield of Trannyth with pride. Last in the line was Falion leading his elk. They had decided the animal would be best used as a pack animal, as they would need to travel at a walking pace to stay as a group.

Falions low hanging light brown hair concealed his downcast eyes from view as he walked along staring at the ground. He had not said more than one word responses since last night. It was more than Temmond had heard from him before.

He was always quiet, Only speaking when necessary. His misty grey eyes had that faraway look that Garnand possessed. But they were different. When Garn looked at you, sometimes you doubted he could even see you, like you were thin air as far as he cared to tell. With Falion though, his eyes looked like they had seen the world, and all of that knowledge was staring right at you. Not at your body, something deeper, like your soul.

It could be somewhat unnerving. Tem let out a small chuckle to himself. It sure beat looking into Norkas's face any day. Not just looking, but smelling, hearing, feeling or in anyway sensing the priest of Ioun was a gift from Torog, the lord of prisons and tortures.

His short moment in reality was brought crashing down with the oppressing fate.

They were stuck with him.

Norkas was going to be with them every moment of every day until they found that tiefling. Maybe longer. Garnand was sure to hold onto the book of Guldem until he could unravel its meaning, and Norkas was not going to return to his shrine empty handed. That was a discussion he was not looking forward to.

Temmond had be appointed the leader of their band, what that would mean had yet to be determined. Norkas had not offered any argument to the archmage when he had put together this arrangement, but Temmond highly doubted the issue was not still a question in his mind.

So much for being as free as the stars.

The stars.

The archmage had said something concerning fate; something about how it was working last night. How had he been appointed of this little band?

Until last night he was not sure if the archmage had even known his name, but apparently he knew a bit more than that about Temmond.

That confused him.

It brought up many questions in his mind. Why would he be appointed to lead? Why would Norkas make such a huge fuss about going along on a quest that surely would associate him with his undesirable heritage? And why did this tiefling run as if the primordials were chasing him?

Too many questions.

He smiled and rolled his eyes, if only for himself. Temmond was not used to thinking deep questioning thoughts. He liked to live life as free of such heavy things.

Temmond could only focus on his goal; to rescue the tiefling from its path of wanton self destruction.

The tiefling had not bothered to cover his trail at all. Tem did not think he was a native of the wilds, so it was unlikely that he knew how.

But even a crashing boulder could have been more discreet.

The path of broken branches and torn dirt was easy enough to follow. Even in the dead of night Tem had found it without much effort.

They would have caught up to him by now, but the path he had taken showed no thought of self-preservation. Already Temmond had followed the tieflings trail off of cliffs, through bramble patches, and past at least two hornets nests. Temmond had needed to lead his group around longer ways in order to avoid self-injury.

What would drive a so?

Tem guesses he would have to wait until they caught him to find out.

He leaned down close to the ground, near a rough footprint on their trail. It was not the crude boot that caught his attention, but a small patch of mud to the side of it.

It was blood.

With all the tumbling and tearing that the red skinned man pushed himself through, it was odd that they had not seen any earlier.

Temmond bent down on one knee, putting his face to the ground. Closing his eyes, he took in a long breath through his nose, taking in his surroundings. He let his mind flow over the little patch of ground, feeling the connections between the ground and the air. He felt for the spirits of the forest and earth. Turin had taught him how to do this. Blood was life. It held part of the spirit.

He slowly let his breath out.

HIs vision blurred. The sky turned darker. He could feel a need to escape that was not his own. A terror so deep it felt like it was going to pull his heart out of his chest.

Looking up he could see a ghostly image of the running tiefling, his face glistening with sweat, shoulders heaving with exhaustion.

The apparition ran, trailing faint wisps of pale smoke. Tem could see not cuts or bruises on him. Other than exaustion, the red skinned man seemed perfectly fine.

Time slowed in his minds eye. A flash of smoke, a dark finger of light burst across his vision. It struck the running tiefling, throwing off his balance. An arrow was lodged in his shoulder.

Temmond gasped in shock.

He turned. Time was slow, the air thick. His mind forcing its way through the cloudy vision. He needed to see who the attacker was.

A splash.

The sky grew instantly lighter as the vision receded into his mind.

With a start, his eyes cleared and focused on the puddle of blood made mud, now splattered about with a near pristine armored boot in it.

He looked down on the leather jerkin he wore. It was splotched with the mud. He could feel patches of it on his face and hands.

He forced his head up to meet Norkas's face. Of course it was Norkas.

"That is an odd position to take a nap." He said.

Temmond clenched his jaw.

"I wasn't napping. I..."

Norkas interrupted him. "I did not mean to disturb you, if you are too weak of body and mind to carry on I can lead the group ahead to catch the poor lost fellow. If a blind cow could follow this trail I doubt it will cause any trouble for me."

"Norkas I wasn't napping! I was.."

"Are you ready to continue with this demeaning child's quest or not?"

"Fine we can go!"

Temmond hated how easily Norkas could get under his skin. He could hunt werebeasts in the feywild during a full moon and not bat an eyelash at it. But one second with that man! Temmond wanted to pull his hair out, Or break that pretentious nose. Maybe both.

That fool!

Tem stood up. He faced Norkas evenly. He would not let him get to him!

"I'm ready to continue." He said tersely. "But first I have some news to share with those who would hear it." He turned sharply to face Falion and Garn. "We have a problem." Tem said. "Someone else is hunting the tiefling. He was shot with a small arrow."

"What shot him?" Falion asked.

"I don't know." Tem gave a brief glare back over his shoulder at Norkas.

"I'll need to have a short look around here, see if I can find anything. The rest of you press on ahead. I'll catch up as soon as I can."

Falion gave a curt nod, and Garnand a bemused smile with pensive eyes, in agreement. Tem turned to look at Norkas. He looked like he was about to say something.

"You had better get going." Tem told him. "Unless you need to rest."

A grimace flashed across Norkas's perfect face. It was gone in a heartbeat, but it was enough for Temmond to smile at. Norkas was back to serine before Falion nudged his way past them, leading his elk.

Temmond wasted no more time trying to goad Norkas. He flipped himself around and pushed himself quickly in the direction he had seen the arrow come from in his vision.


	8. Chapter 8

By the time Temmond caught up with the others, Temmond could count at least nine distinct trails that were following the tiefling. He had never seen tracks like this before. They had three long toes tipped with short claws, almost like a bird. But why would a bird take a walk through the forest when it could just as easily fly? Birds also did not fire arrows, at least as far as Temmond knew.

They continued to find small patches of blood along the way. Not enough that they had to worry about the creature dying, but enough that it had to be wearing on him.

The trail was easy to follow. It lead through the gorge and down a shallow hill to a dense and dark part of the forest. The shadows were thick there, like a constant smothering presence.

The ancient ruins of some lost civilization were crumbled into almost complete nothingness among the roots of the trees. The gnarled roots around the old grey stone looked like monstrous hands pulling the ruins up from the earth. It added to the oppressive atmosphere.

They followed the tracks to a place where the ruins grew to the height of a man, and formed some semblance of a wall around a cleared courtyard.

Temmond was leading the group again, watching his steps carefully. Shadows could hold many a danger here. Lyfalia had trained him well, step lightly, outside of the foot first, then roll onto the pad of your feet, breath slowly. The forest would tell you what is wrong, she always said, and she was always right.

It came like a dance of leaves in the wind. They were close. There was a noise up ahead, it was faint, but undoubtedly foreign to the eternal forest.

He motioned for his group to stay still. He would need to move alone if he wanted to keep hidden. He didn't look back. He trusted that his commands would be understood and obeyed.

The faint sweet smell of green wood burning twisted into his nostrils. It was a fresh fire, nothing more than a few sparks licking at some young branches.

He lifted himself up into a tree and ran like a cat over a spider's web of thick low branches. He was betting that whatever these three toed things were, they did not know how to run in the forest. Why else would they burn green wood? If they were planning on making a campfire like that, they would be known for leagues and leagues by the thick cloud of smoke. The smoke would stick to their skin and clothes like honey. Every Creature would be able to smell them from a thousand paces for days.

Temmond hadn't passed half a dozen trees before he could hear the sudden chips and cracks of an quick foreign tongue. The smell of smoke was stronger here. Up ahead was a thick old stone wall that was half again as tall as he was, if he had been standing on the ground. As he was already up in the trees, he could almost see over the broken receding top.

He lept from branch to the pile of old stones, keeping his body low to the rocks. It had been the remains of some lost fey-conquered courtyard. Two of the walls were still standing, and a third had tumbled into rubble. Hugging a grey stoned wall was a small camp of over a dozen small lizard like creatures. They stood as tall as Tem's chest, taller than a gnome but shorter than most men. Their long snouts were lined with short haphazardly placed teeth. They were dressed in an odd assortment of rags.

He kept to the edges and avoided notice of the slight lizard men who were dancing madly with glee around their newly made fire, by a large gaping pit. Hosted up between two crooked battered poles over the pit was the tiefling, unconscious. Across the pit from the demented scaled miscreants was a pile of old rock topped with a cluster of broken branches that Temmond had to assume was meant to be a throne; because it had an ugly fat old lizard-like man perched on top of it. His pockmarked face and dark eyes gleamed with a commanding confidence as he looked down to his prone prisoner. A crown of broken bones was tied to his head with small talismans hanging from it.

To his side stood a creature whose species Tem could recognize. The imposing red skinned man with straight jet black hair and curved horns left no doubt. It was another tiefling. This one looked quite different than the other that Temmond had been chasing. His well muscled arms were bare, and he held them folded across his chest. He wore a rough black hide vest and matching trousers, standing with his head casually leaning to the side as if bored.

The situation seemed bad. Temmond let out a sigh. He had never handled something like this before! Who, or what, were these creatures? What were they doing in the eternal forest? If they had been hunting this tiefling, what had he done? Maybe he had stolen that book.

A drop of sweat started to trickle down Temmond's face. Just what had he gotten himself into?

Temmond couldn't see any way of rescuing the tiefling by himself. The thought made him grimace. He would need help. Temmond didn't know too much of what Garnand would be able to offer in combat, but Norkas had supposedly defeated a werebeast. Maybe he would have an idea, although Tem would not want to ask for it. Falion had been training to join the guard, he should have some idea of what to do in situations like this.

One thing was for sure, Tem wouldn't be doing any good staring at this nasty band of whatever they were. He decided to retreat back to where the others were hopefully waiting. He carefully edged his way back off the wall, and threw himself into the trees.

Rushing back to where he had left the other three took less time than Tem thought it would, or at least seemed at such as his mind was still racing. Did his heart always beat so fast? Or so loud?

He lept out of a tree and landed only a few paces away from them. Falion let out a start, head twitching in Tem's direction when he heard him. Garn and Norkas seemed less surprised at his sudden reappearance. Norkas looked downright bored, rubbing his perfectly groomed fingernails against his thumb.

"There are at least a dozen lizard men down there, not to mention the other two who seem to be in charge." said Temmond, looking at the three of them. "They have the tiefling captive in an old ruined courtyard."

"Lizardmen?" Garnand posed a question like only he could hear himself ask. "This far into the eternal forest? That seems highly unlikely. They have no reason to travel this far north."

"Well, they might not be lizardmen exactly." Temmond said in a rush. "They look like what lizard men should look like. You know, like a lizard, only walking like a man. But these ones were much smaller than I expected. They were very skinny too, always hissing."

"Well if they weren't lizard men why did you call them such? If we are to act we must have all the proper information presented or we are likely to be made the fool."

"Garn I know you like to know things, but now is not the time. They are going to kill him! We need to move quickly if we have any chance of saving him."

"No Temmond. We should be clear what we are facing. Are we facing lizardmen, or what you describe sounds like a pack of kobolds."

"What's a kobold? It doesn't matter. What does matter Garn is we have to save him now."

"Forestwalker." Norkas said with a stern tone. "Garnand is right. If what we are facing are indeed kobolds then we should plan our tactics accordingly."

"Hold on, what is a kobold?" Falion restated Tem's earlier question.

"Kobolds are a diminutive draconic race that usually fill the role of minions or servants to their more powerful kin. They organize themselves in loose tribes, usually in subterranean dwellings or nests. They are especially fond of traps and attacking weak or sick targets in swarms. A child could match a single kobold in strength, they know it and are famous for their acts of cowardice."

"Kobolds are not likely to flee from the chance to cause pain." said Garn.. He spoke without a hint of nervousness or edge. It was as if he was answering a question posed by a master at the academy, back perfectly straight, arms to the side, voice slow and steady. His apparent calm stood in stark contrast to the tension in the others of the party.

"It is theorized that because they are often oppressed they wish to show dominance by inflicting pain whenever possible. Because they normally dwell underground, they have a strong aversion to bright light, and can be easily startled." continued Garn in his pensive voice.

Tem looked back in the direction of the captured tiefling.

They needed to act quickly, not listen to one of Garnand's lectures. He was about to speak when Norkas beat him to it.

"Falion" Tem began, "will your mount accept other riders?"

"Yes, he is different than riding a horse though, so if you are planning something extravagant you may need to rethink it."

"I think I can manage. I can lead him over to the north side and fire a couple of shots into the their little party. That should get their attention. I'll lead them away in a far loop around through the wood, and then back here. That should give you time to take care of whatever may be left here."

"Seems reasonable enough, assuming you can manage your end of the deal." said Norkas calmly

"You concern for my welfare warms my heart Norkas." Temmond said with a sarcastic sweetness. "Falion, you call the charge as soon as you think you can. You alright with that?"

Falion nodded his head in affirmation.

"The tiefling is our only concern, rescue him and we are set. Everyone set?"

Falion and Norkas gave curt nods, while Garn's blank stare also spoke in the affirmative.

"Good, you will encounter an old grey stone wall only a hundred paces ahead. Stick to it and come around its left side. I will open the attack, don't do anything until you see me strike" Tem said, a grin spreading on his lips from excitement.

Tem spun around quickly, made a crouched dash over to the elk, which was tied to a tree. He hastily undid the strapped on supplies and mounted the animal.

Spurring it off into a quick trot, he noticed that it was indeed very different than riding a horse, but he would manage. It didn't roll like a horse, instead it kept its back flat. Although that may sound like it would make for a more stable riding experience, Tem found that all it did was transfer the impact of each step quite effectively into his haunches. He almost bit his tongue! This is why men were made to walk not ride! Tem said to himself.

It took him only a few minutes to put himself into position. The Kobolds were so occupied with their fat ugly shaman that he did not have to put much effort into stealth.

He dismounted so that he could take better aim. He was not that great of a shot in the saddle, but he was quick on his feet.

The Kobolds were still enchanted by whatever the shaman was saying in that whistling hissing language they used. The other tiefling still stood in the same bored complacent manner in which Tem had last seen him. They were positively foaming at the mouth with the pleasure of their capture.

He took a mental note of how much time had passed. He could not see Garnand or the others, but they should be in position by now. Should he wait? No he couldn't. Not with the tieflings life at stake. He just would have to trust that his friends had kept themselves decently hidden. He was by a collapsed wall, out of view. They didn't have the slightest clue that they were being watched.

The pack of little kobolds were just over two dozen paces away. Garnand said these things were scared of light. He knew a little trick that he knew they would hate

Tem strung an arrow and called the power of the air to its pointed tip. It gathered the light to the arrow as the wind heeded Tem's call. He took careful aim for the leading kobold with exceptionally large yellow eyes and let loose the shot.

The arrow flew true, leaving a shimmering path of light behind it as it flew right into the aberrant creature's chest, knocking it off its feet with force. As soon as the arrow embedded itself in the molted scaly flesh it erupted in an explosion of light, releasing the energy the wind had infused with it.

The kobolds screamed in fury as they were blinded by the flash.

Tem wasted no time and let loose another three arrows before they were able to discover the direction of the assault. It was like one of the games he would play with Lyfalia where they would challenge each other to contests of speed and accuracy. These targets moved with such chaos, such panic. It was like shooting leaves on the wind, which Temmond had done before on numerous occasions.

His first shot took a confused kobold in the shoulder. The high speed arrow blasted into the cretan with such force that it spun around twice before twisting into a pile on the ground.

The next arrow hit a kobold right through the neck, dropping it silently to the ground.

The last arrow hit a green scaled kobold in the gut. It was not a solid hit, glancing off to the side slightly. The effect was to tare the small creatures gut open in a large messy gash. The thing let out a long high pitched squeal of pain which did not end as he fell to the ground. It continued to moan, bark and scream in its own torment.

The grisly sight horrified Temmond. All the blood and screams were terrifying. At this moment in his head he came to the sudden realization that he had never actually been in combat before. Sure he had been in many dangerous situations, many hunts wear he had changed from hunter to hunted and back again more times than he cared to keep track of or admit. But never before had he killed something intelligent, something near human. The thought frightened him, pulled his mind in different directions and staked his feet to the ground, planting him like a willow tree where he stood.

An angry sound, a yell or furror, pulled him from his daze.

He shook his head and focused on where the noise was coming from.

Tem saw a horde of wicked grins and heard a horde of screams as most of the dozen odd kobolds held their crude knives, bows, and spears up high and charged him. Their shamanistic leader yelling them forward. They gave no thought to their own safety, Tem could see the abandon in their eyes; their only desire was to cause him pain. It wasn't even for revenge of the fallen, or a desire to protect their leader. The things had no other purpose.

Tem called again to the spirits of the elemental wild. Summoning the strength of the forest earthen floor he launched one last arrow at the kobolds. Temmond felt exhaustion pulling through his mind and his body. In the back of his mind he remembered a lesson that Turin had taught him again and again.

Do not overexert yourself.

His vision was blurry and he felt sick and dizzy. He had never put so much effort into two spells so close together. Tem couldn't see it, but his arrow shook with raw elemental energy as it flew through the air. It found its mark squarely on a long scaly snout. The large tooth filled head flipped back, as he spun head over heels to the ground. When its head hit the ground it burst into a hundred vines covered with thorns. They shot out in every direction, ensnaring half the remaining kobolds with poisonous barbs.

Temmond pulled himself quickly back onto his mount and kicked it into motion, spurring it as fast as he could. "Falion was right," Tem thought to himself as the creature sprang into motion, "this thing truly is a pain to ride." He nearly fell off with every passing bound, but he managed to cling tightly to the reins and stay on, the mass of impish creatures behind him.


	9. Chapter 9

Falion saw the kobolds scramble around the number of their party who had been ensnared. Only the shaman and dark tiefling remained standing.

"Norkas handle the tiefling, Garnand get the shaman. I'll rescue the prisoner. Go!" Falion didn't have time to see if they were going to follow his orders. He lept immediately into action.

Rushing over to the tiefling as fast as he could, he heard urgent shouts of anger from the shaman. Garn and Norkas must have followed his orders because no one impeded his path to the tiefling.

His sword unsheathed, he was now net to the pit and ready to strike at the bonds of the unconscious man. His eyes wandered into the deep hollow beside him.

What he said made him pause.

The bottom of the pit was filled with withering vines, covered with thorns. He could see the whip-like branches of the vine withering with an eager anticipation. Some branches ended in dripping holes that reminded Falion of salivating mouths.

He would need to be careful not to fall in.

He also needed to be careful not to let the unconscious captive fall in.

Swinging his blade with precision earned from a lifetime of practice he cut half the bonds in two swift strokes. He grabbed the tiefling by his worn tunic as not to let him fall and raised his arm for the last two blade thrusts that would free him.

A sharp deep pain in his hand stopped his swing and almost made him drop his sword.

Hissing through his teeth at the pain he saw a ecstatically grinning kobold retract his sharp knife from his hand. Three others swarmed around his feet, stabbing whenever they thought they could draw blood.

He let go of the captive, hoping the bonds would hold him in place, he swung his sword down at one of the three pace tall grinning imps. It dodged to the side with such speed it almost seemed to melt away.

They were on top of him now, clawing, stabbing and scraping all over him. Holding back his arms, tackling his legs, the blue imps impaired his every move. More must have joined in the assault. He swung about wildly hoping to shake them off. One stabbed him right in the foot, bringing him down to one knee. His other leg was promptly bitten twice sending him over on his side. Instead of falling on the hard ground as he expected, he tumbled further, taking the small scaly imps with him into the pit.


	10. Chapter 10

Temmond's effort to evade the swarm of minute imps was failing.

Every way he turned, the kobolds materialized from the shadows, leaping at him with wanton screams and knives raised, or throwing sharpened branches that passed as inaccurate javelins at him. Well, not too inaccurate, his bleeding shoulder could testify to that.

His head was pounding. Drops of cold sweat beaded across his face. He had definitely exerted himself too much.

The young archer hoped it had been worth it.

He twisted and turned through the dark woods. Always only two steps ahead of his pursuers. He didn't have time to even try to get a shot off, and he feared that if he reached down for his long knife strapped to his calf, he would fall off the elk.

He pressed on as fast as he could urge his beast.

As he flew through the woods an arrow passed his cheek. It was close enough that the air of its passing stung his face. HIs vision kept shaking, the colors in front of him were all wrong

The very real danger that passed him drew confusion onto his face that gave him pause. The slack in the reigns was taken as a sign from his mount that he would be allowed to slow. Temmond, still startled by the passing arrow, could not think to stop him.

Another arrow whizzed past him. He turned his head in what seemed like slowed time to follow its path. It knocked a swinging kobold right out of the air. It landed dead without a sound, wide mouth splayed open.

His head snapped back around in real time. He followed the path of the arrow to a low hanging branch.

There crouched Lyfalia, hair wild, with a smirk on her face.

She unleashed another arrow into the approaching swarm.

Temmond turned with a new resolve and quickly dismounted. He meant to add his arrows into the frey, but his head spuln, exaustion pulled at his limbs. He fell over onto the ground, his vision blurring.

There were just too many.

No thought of panic entered Temmond's mind. He almost felt pity for the little lizardmen. He knew what was coming

In the years he had hunted, trained and learned from Lyfalia, he had never known her to travel alone.

A low rumbling shook from the earth. Its deep noise echoed through the trees sending birds screaming into the sky. It even gave the kobolds pause.

That pause cost them deeply.

The ground beneath them began to tumble and turn, shaking them off their feet. They screamed in dismay as they were sifted into the ground.

Tem could hear someone stepping out from beside a tree behind him. The two were inseparable really. Turin was a master of the wild magic of the druids.

His vision was slowly returning to him, his head clearing somewhat, Tem made an effort to roll himself upright.

"What are you doing here? You think I was going to get into trouble?"He said from a half seated position. He was heaving, his head spun and felt as if he might pass out. Tem managed to keep a broad grin. it probably looked ridiculous on his face, but he didn't care.

With a broad smile Turin replied, "It was not so much a thought as a certainty. We were planning on letting you have some fun, but Lyfalia was worried that you were still too soft for the woods."

"Hardly, you know Turin is the one to worry." Lyfalia quipped in. "We thought to bring you some gifts to wish you well on your epic travels. We know how much you have been looking forward to it."

"Thanks!" replied Temmond enthusiastically.

"We were told you were traveling with company." Turin said while making a show of looking for the others. "Did you drive them all off already?" Asked Turin with a smile.

Temmond slammed his palm to his head. He had been so happy to see his friends he had forgotten about Garn and the rest. They could still be in trouble.

"They are rescuing the tiefling, we should hurry and see if they need any help."

He made to stand himself up, but was down in a complete jumble before he got even halfway to his feet.

"Point us the way." Turin said, laying a firm, but friendly hand on Temmond's shoulder. "We will see that they are well. Join us as your strength returns to you."

"No, I can.." Temmond began.

"Temmond, you are wasting time." Lyfalia interrupted. "You have spent all your strength and then some. We will see them safe until you join us."

It pained Tem to admit it, but they were both right of course. He grudgingly lifted his arm and pointed the way to the old ruins where he had left his friends. Lyfalia and Turin bounded of through the wood like a dancing breeze. They would be of far more help than he ever would be.

It was a depressing thought.


End file.
